My angel's sinfulness
by AliceLittleSacrifice
Summary: Murdoc is trying to escape his unusual feelings towards the angelic singer. But he doesn't know how 2D faithfully begins to love him back. A story about love, confusion, abuse, and forgiveness. Murdoc x 2D. Rated M for smut and language.
1. Chapter 1

**Author: AliceLittleSactifice**

**Beta****: ****Darkwolfsoul010**

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Gorrilaz or anything else (besides my sick imagination)**

**Warnings: Language, Male x Male, Smut (in later chapters), A bit of OOC-ness (because I can)**

**Special thanks to my wonderful beta Darkwolfsoul010 for correcting my horrible grammar. I love you, bro!**

_(The beginning is a bit slow and boring, I'm sorry. It gets better. But it is Murdoc x 2D. And it's rated M for a reason, I promise!)_

_(It's my first story written in English, so I hope I didn't failed that much! Please leave your review and comments! Thank you!)_

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><p>- The keys! Where the bloody hell are those sodding keys? - screamed a dark-haired man, throwing books and papers in all directions. He looked quite mad, breathing heavily and had dark circles under his eyes. He seemed even darker than usual.<p>

- If one of you, little bastards took my keys, I swear to Satan I'm going to shove them - oh, there they are. Finally!- Murdoc sighed, sounding a lot more relaxed. He had small silver keys in his long fingers, rotating them before his tired, but satisfied eyes.

- Wot's this? Why were ye screamin'?, a tall, thin young man with blue hair carefully peeked around the corner of the room, speaking in a soft, frightened voice.

-Huh? Oh, that's you... Those are my keys! From the airplane,- said Murdoc proudly, looking over his shoulder at the young man, smiling in a very creepy way.

-Airplane? Wot fo? Goin' somewhere? - 2D straightened himself and took a step forward, looking puzzled.

- Yes, why else would I need freakin' airplane keys? We are leavin'... - smirked the bassist, picking up his big old suitcase, throwing things into it.

- We?... Where to?- Asked the singer, dodging the flying objects.

- Grrr, stop askin' questions! Go, pack up your shit! And tell that to Noodle! - yelled the black-haired satanist, turning around to face the terrified boy. When 2D disappeared in the doorway, the satanist sighed, shaking his head, continued gathering his things.  
>Murdoc was sick of this place. Everything in here was driving him insane. All of those stupid people, with their stupid cars, stupid rules, and stupid expectations. He was planning to escape a long time ago. He thought it would be slow and steady, piece by piece, but this civilized hell had already pushed him over the edge. After ten more minutes of rushing back and forth in his dark room, Murdoc was ready to go. Tomorrow he would be far, far away from this stinking manhole, filled with snobby humans. He would be somewhere in a small, rainy town, where Russel already arranged a place for them. He just needed some time. And some cigarettes.<p>

"Wot is goin' on in Muds' head? Where are we goin'? Why? I just started to like this place..." Whining thoughts filled Stuart's head, while he was stacking his blue suitcase. Noodle was already waiting for him in the hall, leaning against the wall with a small, but heavy backpack in her hands and a guitar strapped to her back. What surprised the angelic singer was that the girl wasn't even surprised to hear the news. Instead, she dropped her comic book on the bed, and started quickly picking up stuff from the floor and the closet, swiftly stuffing her backpack. Now she was standing outside of Stu's room, murmuring some japanese song, listening to the boy's heavy sighs.

- Hey,... you kno where we goin'?- quietly asked blue-haired angel, placing his small keyboard into the suitcase.  
>- No. Does it matter? - briefly said the guitarist girl.<p>

She was right, 2D thought. Mostly, they were on the move, especially if Murdoc wanted it. Stuart sighed one more time, looking over his messy room, thinking about what else he could take along. He wanted to bring everything with him. Each small thing, each fragment of his memory. He hated that habit of his - growing addicted and attached to his lifestyle, the places, the people, the things around him. Nobody else in the band seemed to have that in them.

Putting down his bag, Stu grabbed the handle, wheeling it into the hallway, followed by Noodle. There was no sound coming from Murdoc's room down the hall, which surprised the singer. Stepping carefully, the young man peered into the room, not noticing bassist at first. He was sitting on the chair, legs on the table, slowly smoking a cigarette. His face was calm and pensive, the boy could see that he was engrossed in his thoughts. Not moving or making a sound, D watched his band mate, curiously studying the rare facial expression Murdoc wore. He looked strangely bewitching, dove-colored smoke lazily coming out of his lips. A few seconds later, the man noticed the boy, frowning a bit. He stood up almost immediately, making 2D jump a little. He threw a book at him, smirking.  
>- What are ye lookin' at, Dullard? - he chuckled, sending his cigarette flying out of the window, - Agh, Noods, ye're here, too, huh? Good. Excellent. Got everythin'? Stand up already, face-ache, and let's get goin'! - Murdoc threw a magazine at 2D, who was struggling to stand up, laughed and moved forward, carrying his suitcase. Stu-Pot hurried behind his band members, still confused, sad, and a little frustrated.<p>

- Did Russel found it? - inquired Noodle, walking side-by-side with Murdoc.  
>- Yeah. He's der. Called me 'lready, - answered satanist, not looking at the girl.<br>- Mmm, _kore wa ii desu_,- smiled the guitarist.  
>- Wait, wot? Where's Russ? Found wot? - Stuart said, his voice cracking as he hauled his luggage.<br>- Oh, shut up, face-ache,- growled Muds, opening the door.  
>- What was that all about? Why was 2D the only one who was uninformed? How come Noodle already knew about Murdoc's plans? And where's Russel?<br>- Feeling lost, the thin man sulked, lagging behind his friends, strolling outside to their small shaggy airplane.

He didn't remember how many hours had passed. He didn't remember how long he had slept, how many painkillers he took, or how many times he listened through all of the songs on his iPod. But then, they finally landed. The whole trip was spent in almost pure silence between the three. Noodle was playing her PSP, Murdoc was in a pilot seat, listening to the quiet, muffly radio. This was awkward and really uncomfortable, at least for 2D. When they got out of the plane, the young man looked around. The place was gray, still, humid, and windy. He wondered what country it was, or at least what part of the world, but hadn't bothered to ask. He cared less already. After walking along for good five or ten minutes, the boy noticed their drummer sitting in a car before them, waiting. Stu felt a small wave of delight seeing him. Without words of greeting of any sort, or any words in general, they hopped into the car. Again, D felt very lonely and confused, trying to predict what, where, and why. Why did everybody, except him, knew what was going on?

After a few more minutes of driving, the car stopped in front of a white building. It wasn't very tall, but instead it was narrow, looking a little worn, but attractive. There was almost nothing else around, except for a wind turbine, a gas station on the far end of the rode, a small, dirty shop, and another small building next to the house that looked like a garage. Russel helped everyone carry the bags and their instruments inside where it was warm; the room was illuminated with a dull light.

- Welcome, folks. So yea, this is our new nest. Is this fine, Muds? - announced the black man in a booming voice.

- Yeah, man, this is perfect! - said Murdoc, looking around, hands on his hips. Noodle already had disappeared in the back room and went up the stairs. The bassist was now standing in a square recording room with yellow walls, in front of the dark hall, where 2D was. The boy was breathing slowly and nervously, jumping a little when Russel took the suitcase from him.

- Aye, yo, you alright, D? - the drummer looked up at Stuart.

- Ah, wot?.. Yea, I'm... I'm okay. I guess. Just a long day...

- It's fine, man. Here, lemme help ya find your room. C'mon, - said Russel, guiding 2D down the hall, passing Murdoc, into his room.

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><p>After arriving to the strange, rainy town the band rarely did anything together for a few days. Everybody did their own thing; Noodle was decorating her room, playing video games and her acoustic outside. Russel acted like a father, cleaning up the studio, setting up the equipment, and shopping for groceries. Murdoc was always somewhere, nobody knew where. He spent his time talking on the phone or quietly doing his own business behind the closed doors of his room. And 2D, who was the only one that couldn't find a place for himself, spent time in his room. He didn't even unpack his stuff; he mostly sat on his bed, took his pills, sometime ate something from the kitchen, slept, and played a few melodies on a small keyboard. It was 6 PM when Stuart heard a knock on the door.<p>

- Hey, dawg, yew 'lright? Ain't eaten anything since yesterday morning, huh? C'mon down 'ere, we're having a dinner together in 10 minutes, - the drummer's soft booming voice made the singer lift his head.

- A dinner? Togewa? Wha... is it... fo real? - the boy blinked twice, the almost forgotten feeling of warmth raising up his stomach. He was unsure if he should expect anything or if it was just another formal "let's-talk-about- the band's-future" gathering. Whatever the cause, the azure-haired man couldn't help but feel very happy.

- Yeah, why wouldn't it be? - Russel laughed softly, smiling at the boy, - C'mon. Wake up and go downstairs, k?

When the man was gone, Stu-Pot jumped out of the bed, washed his face in the bathroom, and ran down the stairs. Right before entering the kitchen the young man bumped hard into the olive-skinned bassist. Murdoc cursed, taking a few steps back, while Stuart lost his balance and fell on the linoleum floor.

- Sweet Satan, what the-... Dullard! What the fuck are ye doin'? - the satanic musician rolled his eyes.

- Sorry Muds! - gasped the boy, biting his lip, feeling sharp pain in his lower back after the impact.

- Ugh,... Don't run around the house like some cracka-ass beheaded chicken! - sighed Murdoc, stepping closer to the smaller man. His gaze met Stuart's concerned eyes and after a short pause he offered boy a hand.  
>The singer stared at the hand, confused and surprised. For some reason his heart skipped a few beats as he reached for the man's palm. It was surprisingly warm and smooth. Murdoc gently squeezed the boy's hand, pulling him up and helping him back to his feet.<p>

- Faceache... - he said in a soft, husky whisper, turning his back to Stu, putting a cigarette to his lips. The angelic singer couldn't help but thought he saw a slight smile on the satanist's face before he turned away. Tusspot felt a smile creeping on his face, stretching his warm lips as he walked into the kitchen to find Noodle and Russel there.

The night stars slowly covered the planet with a soft, shining blanket. The small, foggy town, where Gorillaz now lived, was bathed in a cold breeze of the stellar evening. Murdoc stood on the balcony of his bedroom, breathing in the crisp air and letting out small, lazy puffs of ghostly grey smoke. His head was empty but heavy with thoughts at the same time. The dinner was a success, as he planned it would be, of course, and even better. They were sitting there, as a family, as a whole once again. That touched even the satanic bassist. Especially his angelic singers reaction. God, his face!... It was so childish, so happy, filled with true, genuine emotions, which Murdoc hadn't seen in a long time already. Partially, it was his fault... Oh, who was he tricking? It was totally his fault! Nobody, not even The God of the bass himself, knew that he acknowledged it. It struck him only a few months ago or so, but he tried to avoid the thought of it, even though the pulsing pain in his chest just grew worse and worse. At times like this, when he was alone with his thoughts, the Gorillaz' leader would feel the heavy weight of guilt and a tingly sentiment of sympathy towards the singer.

"Damn it! What the hell? Since when did this start to get on my nerves?..." the olive-skinned man sighed, throwing his half-burned cigarette away. It was late already, somewhat after midnight,but he still decided to pay the azure-haired boy a visit. Without thinking about anything in particular, he strolled down the stairs to the second floor where Stuart's room was located. The demonic bass player hesitated for a few moments before entering the chamber, but was relieved to find 2D asleep, fully clothed, in his bed. His room was dark, illuminated just a bit by the small neon-blue ghost-shaped night light and the boy's flashing laptop screen. The older man slowly moved closer, stepping around the mess on the floor, watching 2D's even breathing.

He sat soundlessly on the side of the bed, his gaze focused on the young man's peacefully sleeping face. The demon always found his mate attractive, but lately he started to catch himself thinking about the boy more than allowed, staring at him, wanting to get closer the the skinny musician.

- Oh, Dullard... - the bassist exhaled, whispering, gently extending his arm to run his long fingers across Stu's cheekbone. His heart sank deep into his chest at the touch. The boy's skin was flawless, so silky and smooth, so warm and delicate, it was impossible not to caress it.

All thoughts flew out of his head, the only ones left were rotating around the azure-haired angel in front of him. Slowly stroking D's cheek and hair, eating the boy with his eyes, biting his lower lip, Murdoc tried to stop himself from leaning forward to kiss that spellbinding face.

- You stupid little bastard... Stop being so beautiful... - Murdoc leaned a little closer, sliding his warm palm down the smaller man's shoulder, then down his arm, feeling cold, gentle skin, squeezing it a little.

- Are you cold, Love? - the dark-haired man asked, not expecting an answer, hotly breathing against 2D's face, smelling the sweet, tempting smell of butterscotch and raspberry shampoo.

- Why everythin' needs to be be so complicated, Stu?... Stu... Stuart, Love... - the bass player spoke slowly, in a low whisper, tasting the boy's name like strawberry shortcake, closing his eyes, feeling the singer under his touch.

His chest was swelling with emotions, but he knew that it was useless. Heavily sighing he pulled the blanket over bluenette's cold shoulders and hesitating for a few seconds, willingly looking at the singer, he bent down to slowly kiss the edge of 2D's lips. Then he swiftly left the bedroom, painfully forcing himself not to look back, the leader of the band went back to his room to get wasted.

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><p><em><strong>(I hope you liked it! Please add your reviews, it will make me happy! See you in the next chapter!)<strong>_


	2. Chapter 2

The morning crashed on 2D with a loud boom. He opened his deep black eyes, immediately shutting them back tightly, due to his severe headache. Continuously hissing, he stood up, shaking, the boy found his way to the bathroom where he, knocking off some stuff from the sink to the floor, found his painkillers. The angel swallowed 2 pills dry, pulling his blue hair a little. Stuart blinked a few times, looking at himself in the mirror, hearing the loud noise once again. This time he recognized Murdoc's bass playing in it. This struck the young man a bit, making him recall his strange dream.

There he was in his room, standing before his bed, reading the music sheets on the wall, when he felt a warm touch, and then Murdoc's soft, husky voice. The bassist talked to the boy, slowly traveling across singer's body with his hands, smirking and kissing his neck... Wow, what the hell was that? Stuart jumped a bit, lightly slapping his face. What kind of a dream was that?... Feeling his cheeks flame up, the boy went back to the bedroom, dressed up and headed downstairs to get some food and to find out what was going on in the studio. To his great surprise Noodle and Russel were in the kitchen, silently eating cereal.

- Um, good mornin', - Stuart spoke first, smiling at his band members, as he came closer to the table.

- _Ohayo, 2D-san, _- the girl smiled wide, then suddenly grew silent again, looking at the door to the recording room on the right. Russel did the same thing.

- W-wot's wrong? Where's Muds? I heard that he was..- the bluenette was cut off by the loud sound of the bass. Murdoc had started playing again. Here, the sound was even more ear-crushing, it made 2D jump.

- He's drunk, mate, - the drummer almost had to scream across the kitchen table for Stu to hear him speak.

- _Ando very-very angry! _- added Noodle in a high-pitched voice, talking with her cute japanese accent.

Stuart plugged the ears with his hands, feeling the headache coming back. He was about to say something but everything grew silent around him. For a split second he thought he went deaf, but a moment later the doors to the studio flew open and with a grumble, the satanic bass player appeared in the doorway. He was shirtless, wearing only dark-blue jeans, brown boots and an inverted cross on his chest. He swept his eyes around the room, angrily cursing, and marched forward to the refrigerator. Nobody dared to drop a word, not even Russel, who stepped aside.

- Wot are ye lookin' at, wankers? - Murdoc grunted, opening the refrigerator's door, bending over it. A few seconds after he straightened himself, holding a big can of beer in his hand.

- Erm,... Muds? I dun fink it's a good idea fo you to... - the azure-haired boy started, nervously staring at his band leader.

- Did somebody give ya permission to blab around, Dullard? - Murdoc snapped, turning his head to look at the singer with his pissed off expression, - Shut yer fuckin' yapper!

With this Murdoc left the kitchen. The three of them were just sitting there, frozen, shocked, and silent. 2D felt hurt after the bassist's words, even though it was clearly not the first time the demon treated him like crap, the boy couldn't help but felt very sad and scared at the moment.

- Um, aye, D. Here, lemme make ya sum breakfast, - the black man lifted himself off a chair, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

- Yeah... Fanks, Russ, - answered Stuart with a soft, fake smile, still looking into the hallway, where the dark-haired man disappeared a minute ago.

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><p>The next few days were sulky and plain. Murdoc was getting drunk every morning, raging around the house. Noodle spent her time with Russel, mostly seeking protection from the jagged satanist. 2D was afraid even to come out of his room, waking up in the middle of night due to Murdoc's violent bass playing. The demon was in a terrible mood for three days straight already, and everybody in Gorillaz was worried about him.<p>

One late afternoon on Thursday, Stuart was as hungry as a wolf, so his only choice was to go down to the kitchen, hoping not to meet his bassist. He sneaked down the dark staircase into the empty kitchen. Relieved, the skinny man made himself a sandwich and some juice. He sat down, munching down his bread, thinking about Murdoc. What was going on all of the sudden? Why was Murdoc so angry? Was it his fault? How long will it continue?

Finishing his food, the boy sat there for about 10 more minutes, lost in his thoughts, staring into space. He didn't even noticed a ghostly figure entering the kitchen. It was Murdoc, who was struggling from a hangover. Seeing the angel sitting quietly on the bar stool made his blood boil. The demon clenched his fists, heading towards the boy.

- 'The bloody hell are ye doin' n here, faceache? - the older man snorted, frowning a bit.

Tusspot was still spaced out, not looking at the man in front of him. This threw the bassist over the edge. He growled, grabbing 2D's T-shirt, shaking him and angrily shouting in his face.

- Yew think ye can ignore me like that, tosser? Who the fuck ye think ye are, huh? - blurred with animosity, Murdoc's tired eyes met the pale man's shocked, scared gaze.

- I, I'm, sorry, M-Muds! I d-didn't notice ya!...- whimpered the boy, violently shaking, freaking out.

- What? Do I look like a Tooth Fairy for you to not see me, ye little shit! - Murdoc was in unstable state, gritting his teeth, exploding with irritation.

- No, no, no! I'm... meh jus' … M-Muds!... I... - the boy almost cried, feeling the man's demonic aura spreading around him, his lips trembling in fear.

The satanist lost his consciousness, throwing the boy to the floor, snarling, stepped closer to the singer who rolled into a ball, covering his face with his thin hands. Overflowing with anger, bass player started to kick Stu, without realizing with how much force he put into each kick. Striking the angel's knees, hips, stomach, and rib cage, Murdoc cursed, hissing.

- Ya little bitch! Know yer place, respect yer owner! - olive-skinned man shouted, lowering himself to his knees to grab onto the boy's shirt collar, pulling him closer.  
>- Stop invading my thoughts... Stop it, for fuck's sake! - Murdoc whispered madly, ignoring the tears that streamed down his singer's face.<p>

Cursing another time, he punched the lanky man in the jaw, but missed a bit. Still, the punch was strong enough to leave a bruise on the boy's flawless face, dislocating his jaw a little. In fear, the smaller man backed off, crawling to the wall, whimpering in pain, petrified. The older man, who looked like he instantly forgot what had happened seconds ago, stood up, reeling around.  
>Without a sound he quickly left the kitchen, his heavy footsteps echoed from the staircase hallway. After the sound was gone, 2D, frightened and shocked, limped up to his room, still crying and embracing the lower part of his body, swallowing some painkillers and sleeping pills. Stuart buried his face, wet and swollen with tears, into his pillow, crying under his breath till the moment he passed out.<p>

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><p>Murdoc reached his bedroom and stood there for a few minutes, realizing what had happened.<p>

- Shit! Fuck, goddammit! - grabbing his head and bending down near the wall, he felt sick to his stomach.  
>Painfully biting his lips and pulling his thick black hair with his long fingers, the man sobbed, no tears coming out, but his whole body ached like crazy.<p>

"What the hell is wrong with me? When did I became such a monster? Fuck... I …" - Murdoc cursed to himself, breathing heavily. The next minute he stood up and ran down the stairs, rushing to 2D's room. The boy was laying on his bed in a strange pose on his back, holding his waist with his hands. The bassist felt an immediate nasty, sharp pain tearing him apart on the inside, from the sight of the abused boy. Niccals came closer, falling to his knees before singer's bed.

- Oh,... oh, Stuart... Oh, shit!... - the demon whispered, trembling, reaching carefully for the young man's chin, where he could clearly see a light big bruise, that soon would grow darker.  
>The man studied the boy's temple, remembering how he kicked and shaked this poor, lithe body not that long ago.<p>

Seeing Stu's sleeping facial expression, full of pain and suffering, made Murdoc lose his mind. His heart sank painfully down his chest, the man never regretted anything in his life as much as he did this moment. He let one small, salty tear to fall down his face, leaning forward and then sat back on his knees.

- Faceache... Please... no,... I'm... Oh, fuck, D, I'm sorry! I'm so so sorry... - the man whispered, shaking and holding the boy's small, fragile hand. - I don't know what's up with me... Freakin' booze made me mad... Stu, Love,... please... I'm... I don't know why.. I always hurt ye...my best mate, my little angel singer, … my only one... - biting his lip, he so disgusted with himself.

He stopped talking, only whispering the boy's name from time to time, still holding his cold hand and caressing the blue-haired man's shoulders and face. Murdoc spent god knows how many hours near his singer's bed before leaving, like a ghost, to his room.

The morning came, gloomy and slow, everything were silent and still till afternoon. But the lanky musician never left his room, staring at the ceiling, feeling nothing but pain.


End file.
